


Red Cups

by lightsaroundyourvanity



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Biting, Blood, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsaroundyourvanity/pseuds/lightsaroundyourvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe twitchy is the wrong word. Maybe the right word is hungry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Cups

The party they had ended up at seriously sucked.

Some friend of Perry and LaFontaine's, and there had been beer pong, and there had been loud, terrible music, and there had been a drunk girl who'd gotten a concussion after catching her girlfriend entwined with somebody else, running away, slipping on ice, and cracking her head. She had friends in a cab with her now. And Danny, because that big damn hero would wade into any fucking crisis that arose, y'know?

In short, Carmilla is really freaking bored.

She hates the shitty red cup of keg beer in her hand, and she hates the smell of sweat leaking out of every co-ed's pore, and she really, _really_ hates the way all this clamour and drunken energy is making her feel... twitchy.

Okay, so maybe twitchy is the wrong word. Maybe the right word is _hungry_.

Look, Carmilla knows it's not pretty. It's not graceful. But it's a fact of being a vampire: Everything needs to eat, and the sad twist of fate is, for her, people equals food. 

Carmilla both hates it and is keenly aware that there are times that she likes it a _lot._ To feed and to fuck are kind of linked in a vampire's makeup (there's a reason turds like Stoker used them to write their sexual morality tales) and it would be incredibly untrue for her to say she'd never succumbed to that synchronicity. And Carmilla is no liar.

Okay, that isn't totally true. She has secrets. For one, she's never admitted to the bloodlust that seeps through her in frenetic situations (even dumb university parties, where the energy is all sloppy sex and gossipy arguments) to Laura, who has just sidled up to her now, holding a newly filled cup, foamy with head. Laura grins at Carmilla and sips from it. White foam dabs her nose when she lowers her cup, and Carmilla cracks a smile. 

"You got something," Carmilla says, and gestures to her own face.

"What?" Laura wrinkles her nose. It only draws attention to the foam.

Carmilla's smile grows. "Hold on," she says. She leans in and swipes her fingers over the tip of Laura's nose, gently. Laura closes her eyes, and Carmilla can hear her breath coming shallow. She lowers her hand. "You're good."

Laura smiles at Carmilla. It's brilliant and adorable, and makes Carmilla want to lean in and touch her face again. 

She doesn't, because she feels the quickening where her pulse ought to be, the light headed press to feed and drink the night. She wants to tear the throat from a stranger, wipe the blood onLaura's cheeks like warpaint and then lick it off, crowd into her space and smell her skin and taste copper and satiation. 

She doesn't, because that would appal. Carmilla may have the instincts and urges of the undead, but she has the manners of a lady. She has to, or else she knows that she is one step too close to the monsters that heroes swear to kill.

And she cares what Laura thinks of her, which might be the strangest part of all.  

It's not like Carmilla has never known what it's like to fall for someone. There was Elle, and there always would be. There had been flashes of other things, with other girls. But nothing of this intensity, not since she'd risen from her tomb.

There was something about Laura, and it was that thought that Carmilla kept circling back to. Of course she was beautiful, and curious, and headstrong-- but there was more to the draw Carmilla felt to Laura than that, something ineffable, something lush and intoxicating. It made Carmilla want to stare, until Laura grew bashful and ducked away. It made her want to touch Laura. 

Carmilla reaches for Laura again. She cups Laura's cheek, and brushes the corner of Laura's mouth with her thumb. 

"Is there more?" Laura asks.

Carmilla smiles. "No." She leans in and kisses Laura, and Laura makes a small noise in her throat and kisses Carmilla back. It's quick and chaste, and they stand close afterwards, foreheads bent towards each other, Laura's beer cup crushed between them.

"Hey, Buffy and Angel, save it for the bedroom," a familiar voice pipes. Laura and Carmilla spring apart. LaFontaine grins at them.

"We're not Buffy and Angel, we're Willow and vampire!Willow," Laura says right away.

LaFontaine looks both surprised and impressed. "You two have thought about this."

"She has," Carmilla cuts in. "I listened. I still don't know the difference between Willow and vampire Willow."

"You know, you _were_ alive in the 90s," Laura teases, looking at Carmilla sidelong. "You could have watched _Buffy_ air with the rest of us."

"Why on earth would I want to watch a show about vampires?" Carmilla asks. "Would you want to watch a show about humans going about menial tasks?"

"Uh, yeah dude," says LaFontaine. "It's called reality TV, and it's awesome. Have you seen _Ice Road Truckers_? It's--"

"I figured it out, thanks," Carmilla interrupts. 

LaFontaine shrugs good naturedly. "Anyway," they continue, "I was just going to tell you two, if you're going to keep macking like a couple teenagers at a frat party--"

"We _are_ a couple teenagers at a frat party," Laura points out.

"I'm not," says Carmilla.

"Close enough," Laura retorts.

"--then you might like to know that upstairs is supposed to be er. Private," LaFontaine continues, as though they hadn't been interrupted. They waggle their eyebrows at Carmilla and Laura. "If you get my drift," they add, before scampering away.

"Well, that was transparent," Carmilla remarks.

"Did LaFontaine just give us their blessing to go have sex in some stranger's bed at a party?" Laura asks. She sounds flummoxed, comically so, but the curve of her lip and the beat of her blood suggests she's also at least a little bit intrigued. She glances at Carmilla, and then quickly away. 

"Shall we?" Carmilla asks. She smirks.

Laura chokes on her drink. "What?!" she squeaks. "You wanna-- like right-- what if someone walks in on us?"

Carmilla leans close enough to speak into Laura's ear. "That's half the fun, cupcake."

Laura gulps, but desire sparks in her gaze. She looks around the room, and then back at Carmilla, and gives a tiny nod. She grabs hold of Carmilla's hand and heads towards the stairs.

Truth be told, Carmilla has ulterior motives. Sure, she wants Laura, but she also wants to be away from the bump and grind of the party, the flirting and the hot, close air that seems to make the room throb. Carmilla is really starting to realize that she should have brought a snack out tonight ("No, honestly, dude. It's a Ceasar.") She thinks that maybe if she's alone, with Laura, for a little while, she can ground herself.

There are several rooms on the second floor; at least one is occupied already, the door slightly ajar, soft moans and giggles floating out into the hallway. Laura tugs Carmilla past door number one and to the unlit bedroom two doors down. They both slip inside and Laura closes the door behind them. Before Carmilla can even look around, Laura sidles up against her, backs Carmilla into the door. She brackets Carmilla between her arms and stands on tiptoe to kiss her. 

Laura is not somebody who Carmilla would describe as shy, but in the early stages of their courtship she'd been bashful and nervous. She has none of those reservations now. She throws herself into making love with the same enthusiasm she attacks journalism projects or _Orphan Black_ marathons with. She presses her body up against Carmilla quickly, presses her tongue into Carmilla's mouth, and Carmilla's arms circle Laura's waist automatically. 

They make out for long enough that Carmilla starts to feel a fizzle of interest down south, but it strikes her, aching, that her hunger has not begun to fade. If anything, its sharper now, goaded by the soft give of Laura's skin and the smell of Laura's hair and how Laura is nibbling her earlobe in a way that makes Carmilla's whole body tingle.

She wants to taste Laura. She wants to sink her teeth into Laura's throat and then drink until she courses with strength. Carmilla wants it so badly she thinks she might crumble, and she starts to wonder what would happen if she just took it. Because vampires take, right? That's what they're supposed to be. That's what her mother had raised her to be.

This final revelation is bracing like ice water. The last time she had bitten Laura, Laura hadn't liked it. To go for it again feels like a violation, and Carmilla realizes that she loves Laura more than she craves the feed. 

She needs to get out of here.

Carmilla jerks back suddenly, out of Laura's hold, and drops her arms to her side. "Stop," she says. "I-- I gotta go."

Hurt flares visibly in Laura's eyes. She takes a step backwards. "What?" she asks. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Carmilla says quickly. "I just--" she lets out a breath. She feels mortified, having to admit this, and if it were anybody else she would roll her eyes at them and sweep out into the night (if it were anybody else, she would probably just bite them.) But this is Laura. Carmilla owes her more than that. 

"I'm hungry, okay?" Carmilla says finally, scowling and defensive. "I didn't really eat this afternoon and now I'm _hungry,_ and I thought it was just the party driving me crazy, but now you're driving me crazy, too, and I don't want-- I don't want to--" Carmilla trails off.

Laura's eyes grow wider. "Oh." 

She's quiet for a long time, and looks thoughtful. Dread gnaws at Carmilla. Sure, she's drank blood in front of Laura, dozens of times, but something about having to admit that she needs to feed, so badly that its tinged with desperation, feels awkward and vulnerable and strange.

Laura still hasn't spoken, but she watches Carmilla with interest. She backs away, further into the room, and sits down heavily on the edge of the bed. Carmilla watches as she pushes her hair over one shoulder, exposing the side of her neck. 

"Drink me," says Laura, in a small but steady voice.

Carmilla's mouth goes dry. She wants to say yes right away. She hesitates instead. "I couldn't."   

"Don't be stupid," Laura retorts. "You need to feed, and I'm right here. Just..." nervousness passes briefly over her face, "...be careful."

Carmilla gulps. She crosses to Laura in a blur of speed, and leans over her, cups her chin in both hands. "You're sure?"

Looking into Carmilla's eyes, Laura nods. "Yeah."

Carmilla draws in a breath. Her stare flickers from Laura's face to her neck, where if she listens, she can hear the delicate whoosh of blood running through Laura's veins. She lowers her head, and Laura's hands come to gently rest on Carmilla's waist as she does. Carmilla's fangs pop out with a tinny _snick,_ and she presses her mouth to Laura's vein and bites.

Laura makes a sharp noise of pain when Carmilla's teeth break the skin, and a wave of worry floods Carmilla, but Laura presses against the small of her back, willing her to go on. Carmilla bites down harder, and tries to put Laura's soft whimper from her mind. That's all too easy a moment later when the first splatters of blood hit Carmilla's tongue, and she's flooded with heady euphoria. Her hand slides to the back of Laura's neck and holds it hard; she sucks down harder and a stream of blood runs down her throat. Carmilla imagines that this is what blooming feels like. She can feel colour return to her vision, acuity return to her thoughts, and a steady, buzzing sensation of _more, more, more_ as she slakes her thirst with the rich taste of Laura. Hungry noises escape her as she feeds.

Laura whimpers again, and at first Carmilla thinks with pain, but then Laura moves her hands from Carmilla's waist to her ass and pulls Carmilla into her lap, and Carmilla starts to think differently. Carmilla grinds down on Laura's lap and lets Laura crush them together, chest to chest. 

They move like this, entwined, Carmilla sucking on Laura's throat and gulping swallows of blood until Laura eases off and taps Carmilla firmly on the back. Carmilla raises her head and blinks. They're in a darkened room, but it still seems overbright now. Carmilla blinks, and licks the last traces of blood off of her lips. She looks down at Laura. "Are you alright?"

Laura smiles, a little bit shyly. "Yeah," she says. "I-- I liked it," she admits.

Concern is quickly replaced in Carmilla with the cocky urge to crow, and she smirks. She goes to lower her head again, but Laura stops her.

"Um, but maybe we shouldn't do that anymore?" she adds. "I don't have, like, an _infinite_ supply of blood, so..."

Carmilla leans back. "Oh, right," she says hazily. "Duh."

She starts to get out of Laura's lap, but Laura holds her in place. "We can't do _that_ anymore," she says. Her eyes sparkle. "But also, why waste a perfectly good bed? I mean, we're already here, right? It would almost be _unfair_ of us to go. To the bed I mean."

Carmilla grins. "You're a real hero, you know that, Hollis?"

Laura bats her eyes at Carmilla. "I know. But the question is: are you?"

Carmilla is already suffused with adrenaline from feeding, and from being so close to Laura, without Laura's flirting being thrown into the mix. She tumbles Laura onto her back and Laura squeals. Carmilla is now straddling Laura's waist, and she bends down and kisses her. "Let's find out."

 

 

They make it back downstairs over an hour later, disheveled and giggling. Laura's hair covers her neck. When LaFontaine spots them, they favour them with a big wink and a wide, knowing grin.

Carmilla rolls her eyes, but she's smiling.

 


End file.
